


Who Lived in the Heart

by windfallswest



Series: Olin/Lands [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Last of The Jedi Series - Jude Watson
Genre: Dating, Developing Relationship, Double Dating, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 12:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18315098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: Roan and Ferus' double date goes exceptionally well.





	Who Lived in the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise in advance.

He almost made it out unscathed. 

"Where are you off to this time?" 

_So close._ Hand on the side door control, Ferus froze under his boss's scrutiny. Abigail Manx tossed her head to shake a stray curl out of her face where she sat at the shop's work bench, pruning a cluster of potted reed cane plants she was training into spirals. Her suddenly sharpening gaze now fixed him unimpeded. 

Usually, Ferus had no trouble trading shifts with Aya or Cerri to accommodate the volunteer work he'd started getting involved in. But with graduation approaching fast, Cerri had taken the day off to finish a report for school, leaving Manx to fill in. 

Before Ferus could formulate a reply, Aya glanced back at them from the front. "Hey, Ferus, shouldn't you be out of here? You'll be late for your date."

Manx looked back and forth between them. "Date?" she asked with feigned casualness. 

"It is tonight, isn't it? Your double date?" 

"We're just meeting Roan's cousin and her wife for dinner." Ferus tried not to make it sound like anything special, but Manx had already caught the scent. 

"You should have told me; I could have helped you pick out something to wear." 

"It's only a casual dinner," Ferus said, brushing self-consciously at a smudge of potting soil on his tunic. 

"And don't forget, you get a discount on flowers," Manx continued. 

Ferus didn't quite manage to suppress his reaction to that suggestion.

Manx closed her eyes in a dramatic gesture of existential pain. "You'd think that someone who works in a flower shop would understand that they're an essential component of a successful romance."

Briefly, Ferus was tempted to ask her what success criteria she used to evaluate a romance. Then he thought better of it. 

He did wonder sometimes if he was doing this right. On the balance, he still felt like giving Roan flowers might seem a trifle lazy. Except that left Ferus with the question of what _would_ be appropriate. The selection of diplomatic gifts had been touched on in his training, but Jedi didn't place much value on material possessions, putting him at a loss. 

So far, he was taking his cue from Roan; and Roan hadn't presented him with any baubles or flower arrangements. Roan would say, wouldn't he? It wasn't like they didn't talk about things. Roan spent a lot of time explaining Bellassan culture to him. Ferus had to trust that Roan wouldn't let him make any serious mistakes.

 

Hurrying along the pavement, Roan reached a station pier just as a water bus pulled up. He hopped aboard for a couple of stops, then took to the streets again for the last few blocks to the restaurant. 

He and Ferus both worked in Bluestone Lake, but the restaurant was the new one they'd found last week, just a few blocks away from the flower shop, so he was the last to arrive. Ferus was already sitting at a table outside with Cauvery and Pramud. He was wearing a familiar attentive expression as he leaned forward to add something to the conversation, sunlight glinting off the gold streak in his hair. 

"Hey strangers." Roan put a hand on Ferus' shoulder and dropped into the remaining chair between him and Pramud. "Starting the party without me?" 

He helped himself to some batter-fried appetisers. Pramud slapped playfully at his hand. Her orange-copper hair was twisted up off her neck in the summer heat, and as usual she was taking advantage of her leave to wear elaborate non-regulation earrings. Cauvery's mustard yellow, bobbed to chin-length, was almost as bright. 

"I was just thanking Ferus for picking up the slack for me at dinner this weekend. Maybe you should stay away more, Pramud; running those dinners is exhausting." Cauvery grinned at her wife and got a tart expression in return. "Story time is usually my gig, but I was swamped." 

"That's just bowing to the inevitable," Roan commented. 

"True." Pramud nodded. Cauvery narrowed her eyes, but for the moment declined to dig herself in any deeper. 

Ferus looked between them warily. "I'm missing something."

Roan snickered. "Just twenty years of her jumping in whenever anyone else tried to tell a story."

"I do not!" 

"Ehh..." Pramud tilted her head a little, feigning regret. 

Cauvery gaped in betrayal. "So much for family solidarity—!"

"I mean, you're good at it," Roan offered, ducking away as she reached around her equally deserving wife to pinch him. 

"Brat," Cauvery huffed. But she settled back in her chair again, a little mollified. 

Ferus was watching this interchange with slightly wild eyes, unsure how to respond, his fellow Jedi apprentices apparently not having been the kind of obnoxious mynocks Roan had to deal with. _Lucky Ferus_.

The harried-looking proprietor came to the rescue to ask what Roan wanted to drink, and they seized the opportunity to order. By the time she whisked away again, Ferus had managed to regain his composure; he was quick like that. 

"I was going to ask if you did those yourselves," he said with the air of someone deliberately changing the topic, indicating the fading patterns that had been traced on both Cauvery and Pramud's hands. "They look different from others I've seen."

"All her." Cauvery gestured to her wife, then held her hands out for inspection. "Our galactic traveller likes to experiment with styles from different planets."

The proprietor returned with a fresh pitcher of pulverised fruit and ice and poured it around. Roan reached for his immediately. 

"Here, give me your hand. You, budge," Pramud shooed Roan, who was in the middle of swallowing and had some difficulty fending her off without spilling the iced contents of his glass all over himself, not that that wasn't somewhat tempting in this heat, until he switched seats with Ferus. Reaching into a bag, she came out with an applicator cone and seized Ferus' left hand. "I always pick up some when I'm here. I do my feet whenever I start feeling too homesick."

"Oh," Ferus said. "I didn't mean—you don't have to—"

"Relax, it wears off. Eventually," Cauvery added. 

Roan laughed. Resting an arm along the back of Ferus' chair, he leaned in to watch as Pramud worked to cover his forefinger with rings of patterns. After his first hesitation, Ferus held perfectly still, earning none of the rebukes for fidgeting Roan always got. 

"We should have given you a manicure first." Pramud tutted. "I expect you to be prepared next time, and no excuses."

Roan's stomach did an odd flip as the question of where Ferus would be the next time Pramud was on Belassa, in six months or a year, occurred to him. True, he was growing more comfortable, branching out more and more from the flower shop on his own initiative. _But how long will that be enough for him?_ How long before Belassa's quiet security could offer no more diversions and he turned back to the wider galaxy? 

"—be happy to listen if you want to do the storytelling next time," Ferus was saying to Cauvery as Pramud worked to detail the asymmetrical organic shapes she'd drawn on his palm. "I don't know any Bellassan children's stories, just meditations and teaching parables, and they don't always go over well."

 _I'd follow you to the end of the universe._ Roan glanced over at the bashful half-smile tugging at Ferus' lips and knew it was the truth. _If you let me_.

"I thought they were interesting," Pramud said as she continued to work. 

"Oh, and what, mine aren't?" objected Cauvery. She winked at Ferus over Pramud's head. 

"Don't say anything," Roan warned Ferus. 

The smile at the corner of his mouth deepened. "Fifteen years of diplomatic training, but thanks for the tip." 

"Hey, anytime." 

Ferus didn't make a move that would disturb Pramud, but he was still smiling. So was Cauvery, but hers was also aimed at Roan and more of an unsubtle knowing smirk. 

Deliberately ignoring her, Roan addressed himself to Pramud. "So, what's your next tour? I didn't hear." Pramud was a supply officer aboard a Republic Navy cruiser, the last he heard. 

"Yeah, they've been rerouting our routine patrols. We're heading to the Galactic South to show the flag around the Mid and Outer Rim sectors there." 

"The Senate must be hoping a show of strength will prevent more planets from seceding," Ferus surmised.

"Think it'll work?" Cauvery asked dryly. 

Ferus tilted his head judiciously. "Maybe in some systems. But the Republic lacks the immediate resources needed to follow through on its shows of force. By the time they do, a diplomatic solution may well have been reached."

"I don't know, he sounds like a Separatist," teased Pramud. 

"Not really. A good percentage of the Separatist systems' complaints about the Republic involve their inability to rein in the Trade Federation. With corporate interests taking the lead in their councils, the Separatists are hardly going to do any better. How long does this take to dry?" Ferus asked belatedly as the proprietor reappeared and started setting plates in front of them. Not that he'd had much choice. 

Unconcerned, Pramud finished filling in the spaces in the design on the heel of his palm. "You don't eat with your left hand anyway." 

A snort escaped Roan at Ferus' helpless look. Reluctantly, Roan moved his arm from the back of his chair and accepted Ferus' plate for him. 

"Usually about twenty minutes," the proprietor offered. "That looks very nice, Ferus."

"Thanks, Sumati. But you should compliment the artist." Ferus indicated Pramud. 

She caught his wrist, stilling the gesture. "Ah-ah-ah, keep still; you'll smudge."

Obediently, Ferus left his hand where she put it, palm-up on the table, careful not to let his encircled forefinger come in contact with anything. Pramud watched him to make sure he wouldn't move, then finished resealing the applicator.

The proprietor smiled. "They're such nice boys."

"Eh..." Cauvery said. Roan elbowed her. "See what I mean?"

"I think it runs in the family," opined Pramud.

"Would you like me to bring out a sugar-citron mixture for that in a few minutes?"

"Yes, please." Pramud finished stashing her supplies and wiped her hands, then turned her attention to her plate, her cheerfulness unabated. "I like this place. You say it's new?"

Roan nodded, swallowing. "Ferus just discovered it. He works right around the corner there."

"The flower shop, right," said Cauvery. 

"Famed in song and story," Pramud added. 

"It's really not that big a deal," Ferus tried to protest, but he was dragged into recounting details about his work and coworkers. 

Shamelessly, Roan egged them on, although he was on the alert to divert the conversation in case the topic shifted to less innocuous probing. He could listen to Ferus for hours, a little halting but intent. He was funnier than he realised, too. 

Talk lagged some as they concentrated on the food. Roan and Cauvery traded complaints about work, and Pramud's stories about shore leave at distant ports of call actually got Ferus talking about his own travels. 

"I've missed your ridiculous stories about your mother," Roan told her. 

About to take a bite out of a glazed blue-milk ball, Pramud pointed it at him instead. "Hey. I don't make fun of your family."

"Yes you do," Roan and Cauvery chorused. They burst out laughing, and even Ferus joined in. 

Pramud wrinkled her nose at them and popped the sweet into her mouth. Cauvery leaned in to kiss her cheek in apology. Although Pramud rolled her eyes, it was easy to tell that she was pleased. 

Cauvery lingered a private moment to nuzzle Pramud's neck, then rested her head on her shoulder. Underneath the table, Ferus' hand found his. 

"How long have you two been together?" 

Pramud and Cauvery exchanged a look. 

"Since a student production of Blind Jump in university." Cauvery smiled at Pramud, who groaned and hid her face in her hands. "Neither one of us was on stage, thank the stars; we were both helping with the sets. She's always had a knack for finding things, and of course I'm a mechanical genius." 

"We got married just before I shipped out on my first tour," Pramud recalled.

"Actually, you came pretty close to hitting our anniversary this year. If you can get leave, I was thinking I might fly out and meet you."

"Maybe someday I'll retire and we'll buy our own freighter." Pramud's expression was somewhat wistful. "Then we can travel together."

"Repair station."

"Trading depot."

"Shipyard."

"We'll figure something out." 

They traded another look, eyes alight. Sneaking a glance at Ferus, Roan's mind was filled with questions. Ferus bumped his knee and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Roan felt his heart flip over in his chest.

It was getting dark when they parted ways. The late sun was sinking behind the buildings, lighting up the sky above the ranks of streetlights. 

Cauvery kissed his cheek, followed by Pramud, and then they both descended on Ferus. 

"We had a wonderful time. The food was _amazing_." 

"I'll try to catch you more often," Cauvery promised. "You sure you don't want to tag along, Ferus? We're going out that way, too." 

"Stop teasing him," Pramud chided her. Then immediately continued, "I think it's sweet. He wants to make sure his boyfriend gets home safe."

"You're shipping out soon, right?" Roan hugged her again anyway. 

Bluestone Lake wasn't exactly the rough part of town, but Roan hardly minded the company, although he thought he ought to feel a little more guilty for taking Ferus out of his way. It was second nature by now to fall into step, walking hand in hand through the evening crowds. 

"Good night?" Roan asked. 

Ferus nudged him with his elbow. They were on a bridge, crossing the last canal before Roan's neighbourhood. "You don't have to sound so worried all the time. I do like your family." 

"Well, I don't know why."

Ferus elbowed him again, trying not to smile. 

"And it's all right to smile; I know you like me." 

Now it was a smirk. "I don't know why." 

Roan threw back his head and laughed. Catching Ferus around the waist, he stopped and drew him in and kissed him. They were in full view of half the district, but all Roan knew was that he suddenly needed Ferus like he needed oxygen. 

Forgetting his inhibitions for one perfect moment, Ferus responded, sweet and open and happy. Pulling away, he didn't look upset; it was mostly a familiar mixture of confusion and enjoyment that was wonderfully Ferus. 

"I love you." It spilled out on a breath, unthinking but so, so true. _With all of my heart._

Ferus flinched back like it had been a blow and not a declaration. He looked... _horrified_ ; his eyes, warm with affection a moment ago, were stricken. 

"This was a mistake." His voice came out in a hoarse rasp. 

Roan tried to catch his hand, but it slipped through his grasp. "Ferus, I..." 

"I'm sorry," Ferus whispered. There were tears on his face. "Sorry."

And then he was gone. Roan stayed rooted to the spot, uncomprehending. People jostled past him on the pavement; beyond them, vehicles drifted sedately over the bridge in either direction, while boats passed beneath the high arch where Roan stood. Eventually, he let his outstretched hand fall back to his side. Anything more than that was completely beyond him.

**Author's Note:**

> OH WAS THAT NOT FLUFF? MY BAD. 
> 
> And that's my AU! I call it fix-it because if Roan isn't with Ferus, there's no reason for Vader to kill him. Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> ETA: APRIL FOOLS >D


End file.
